The Cyberspace TriWizard Tournament
by Lilith the Queen
Summary: A slightly unusual TriWizard Tournament with a slightly unusual school and a VERY unusual girl...


triwiz1

To sum up: 

They were again holding the Tri-Wizard Tournament, despite much hesitation on the part of the sponsoring schools. Durmstrang, because of the unfortunate "incident" last year, would not be competing. Some claimed that this was a ghastly breach of tradition. Others said to hell with tradition, just because it worked for Dad and Granddad before him doesn't mean it'll work for us. Besides, the new principal (Miss Itzhana Levison, a Holocaust survivor and quite a stern lady) wouldn't pony up the money for the entrance fee. 

There was, however, a school that would. The Sycorax Academy for the Subtyll Arts, a prestigious school in Bermuda. Well, not quite prestigious. For one thing, they were part of the now-defunct Conch Republic[][1][i], and also known as the best wizarding party school in the world. 

The principal, Señor Juan Abejo, was not even really considered a wizard. He was a necromancer, which is not the same thing at all. The school was similarly progressive. The subjects taught were things like Voodoo and Aphromancy (sex ed, roughly), most students skipped class anyway, and on weekends everyone, even the teachers, was on the beach. 

So it is extremely fortunate for this story that the school was also very rich. The bursar offered half the money in the coffers to pay the entrance fee of both of the other schools participating. They eventually settled on the idea that Sycorax would hold the tournament and pay for any expenses. This was duly agreed upon. 

And so, both Beauxbatons and Hogwarts made the perfunctory impressive entrance. The Beauxbatons entered in a dazzle of fireworks, the Hogwarts kids in a sort of flying turtle. Of course, that doesn't really matter as much as what was happening the night the Champions were picked. 

The ceremony was held on the beach, as were most ceremonies in Sycorax. It was dark, and the only lights came from the scattered bonfires, illuminating the sand and the gentle waves with an eerie, incandescent light. 

Hermione, Ron, and Harry, along with a few other Gryffindors, were sitting around a small fire near the back of the crowd, by a whitewashed seawall. There was still a while before they drew the names, and the packets of marshmallows and piles of breadfruit, suitable for either roasting, sticking in the fire and watching burn, or throwing at each other, hadn't run out yet. 

"So," Hermione said, "did you put your name in the Cup this year?" 

Harry snorted. "No. I don't want to go through all that again." 

"I did," Ron said. "Like they're ever going to choose me, right?" 

"Hmm," Hermione said. She absently ate a marshmallow. 

A girl bounced over to their fire and sat down next to Harry. "Hey, can I sit with you 'cause I'm a pathetic loser and I don't have any friends?" 

Harry was taken aback. "Um, sure." 

"I'm not really that pathetic," the girl continued, "but I got bored." She looked into the fire, and Harry took a chance to observe her closely. 

She had short straight hair, dyed turquoise blue. She was wearing dark sunglasses, despite the night, a pink, faded, cotton tank top, an unbuttoned plaid shirt, and cut-offs. She was wearing sandals, and her toenails were painted electric blue. 

The girl tilted her head back. "Nice night, isn't it? All humid and muggy." She slapped at her arm. "Stupid mosquitoes." 

Harry shrugged. "I wouldn't know about those. I'm wearing bug spray." 

The girl laughed. "Bug spray is for wimps." She showed him her arm, which was dotted with pink calamine lotion. "See, these are marks of honor." She stared fixedly at nothing, then reached out and grabbed at the air. "Gotcha!" 

"What'd you get?" Harry asked, intrigued. 

The girl opened her hand and showed him. It was a huge, dancing mosquito. Harry involuntarily shuddered. 

"So," he asked, trying to ignore the both the long-legged vampire insect and Hermione and Ron smooching, "what's your name?" 

"You," the girl said, "are looking at the Queen of the Freaks[][2][ii]. My official title is Neeko the Third." 

Hermione stopped snogging Ron for a few seconds. "Hey," she said, "I've heard of you." 

Neeko leaned back. "Yeah? Whatcha heard?" 

"You were the girl that made that huge banner that said 'All your base are belong to us!' and hung it outside the school the day that everyone got here, weren't you?" Hermione asked. 

"Yup," Neeko said. 

"And weren't you the one that dropped that water balloon on Professor Snape?" Ron asked excitedly. 

Neeko grinned. "That was also _moi_." 

"And," Harry said, "you were the one who coined the term 'Voldie'." 

Neeko laughed. "That was me, me, me!" 

"Attention," came a voice from the front. 

Everyone looked expectantly. 

"Attention," Señor Abejo repeated. "I would just like to announce the 2002 Champions of the Tri-Wizard Tournament." 

"Why isn't Dumbledore announcing them?" Harry whispered. 

"It's not his school," Neeko said. 

"The first Champion," Abejo said, "for the school of Beauxbatons…is Señorita Novinha del Rey! Would Novinha del Rey please come up?" 

A tall, dark, thin girl in a blue robe and a sort of white veil made her way up to the makeshift platform, where Madame Maxime, Professor Dumbledore, and Señor Abejo were standing with the Goblet of Fire. 

"The second Champion," Abejo said, "for the school of Hogwarts…is Miss Hermione Granger!" 

Ron gave Hermione a kiss, and Harry slapped her on the back. "Go get 'em!" 

Hermione bounced to her feet and made her way to the platform. 

"This is SO cool," Ron said happily. "My girlfriend is the Champion." 

"Yeah," Harry said, "and last year it was your best friend. Bet it's gonna be you next year." 

"It had BETTER be," Ron said. 

"And the third and final Champion," Abejo said, "for the sponsoring school of Sycorax…is…" There was a whispering of "I'm sure we don't have any students of that name". 

Abejo shrugged. "All right. The Champion is Miss Tequila Rosewater!" 

Neeko sighed. "Oh, _her_. Figures." 

Harry craned his neck to see. "She's not going up." 

"And she's not going to," Neeko said, slumping in her seat. 

"Hey," Ron said with an uncharacteristic flash of insight, "_you're _Tequila Rosewater." 

Neeko sighed. "Well, now you've found out my deep dark secret," she said flippantly. She pulled her shades down on her nose, revealing her flower-colored eyes. "I'm still not going. I didn't even put my name in. Abejo probably put it in for me because he knew I'm the best candidate." 

"You have to accept the final judgment," Harry said. 

"Not if my name's not Tequila Rosewater," Neeko said. She pushed her shades back up and stretched. 

"The Champion," Abejo repeated, "is Miss Tequila Rosewater. Otherwise known," he added, "as Neeko the Third." 

There was a murmuring from numerous fire-rings. _"Neeko? Can't be…she's such a freak. Who'd want…probably rigged…" _

Neeko sighed and stood up. "Oh well." She gave Harry a little wave. "See ya later, gorgeous." And with that, she ran up to the platform. 

"She called me gorgeous," Harry said. 

"She calls everyone gorgeous," said a girl in a wheelchair. 

  


[[i]][3] In the 1920s, during the Prohibition Era, drug smuggling from Bermuda to Florida was rampant. To combat this, J. Edgar Hoover (who was not only the founder of the FBI but also looked quite fetching in a little black cocktail dress) set up a federal zone in Florida, about a hundred miles wide, stretching from Miami to Bimini, the capital of the Bahamas. This allowed federal agents to check and recheck anyone that came into Florida, on suspicion that they might have something illegal, like drugs, booze, or dead fish. Some natives took this quite seriously and named the area the Conch Republic (not, as some think, after a seashell, but in fact after their favorite drink, the Conch On The Head). So they declared themselves an island nation, took the song "Louie Louie" as their anthem, elected Dave Barry as King Booger the First, and immediately declared war on Disneyworld. This went on for about five years, during which the school was founded. Eventually, the FBI decided that it wasn't working and took out all the checkpoints. There was a short skirmish involving mosquitoes, after which King Booger gave back the country in exchange for a lifetime supply of beer. No one, however, ever actually got around to declaring Sycorax Academy to be part of the USA again, and so they still consider themselves to be members of the Conch Republic.

[][4]

[ii] Instead of the European house system, Sycorax uses the American clique system. There are four major cliques. 

I: The Rich Kids. These are mainly valley girls and surfers or Jewish-American royalty, all from either West Bloomfield, Miami Beach, or somewhere in California. These kids are usually either nice but clueless, or rich bitches. They are all very spoiled and very rich. The nice ones will share their wealth. The mean ones flaunt it. 

II: The Partiers. These are either Chaldean kids who want to be black or black kids who want to be Chaldean. Without exception, they have messed-up home lives. The girls tend to be materialistic sluts and the boys tend to be hormonal jerks. The nice ones just like to party, set off fireworks, and form garage bands. The mean ones take drugs and have elevated the insult to an art form. 

III: The Quiet Kids. These kids are just quiet. They study hard, get good grades, and keep to themselves. 

IV: The Freaks. These kids are the nerds, the Goths, and the just plain weirdos. The Rich Kids and Partiers look down upon them; the Quiet Kids just barely escape being on the same level with them. The difference between the Freaks and the Quiet Kids is that the Freaks have large amounts of personality. Almost everyone hates the Freaks, except for the occasional outsider and other Freaks.

   [1]: #_edn1
   [2]: #_edn2
   [3]: #_ednref1
   [4]: #_ednref2



End file.
